


The hunter and his willing prey.

by Bunnywest



Series: Hunter 'verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Flashbacks, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Peter has issues with fireworks. Chris is a willing distraction.





	The hunter and his willing prey.

**Author's Note:**

> OK, be gentle with me. I'm dipping my toe into the waters of Petopher, and I have no idea if it's gonna fly.  
> I guess the only way to find out is to push this baby birdy out of the nest, huh?

Peter casts an eye around the room, and thinks to himself that if somebody wanted to wipe out all of Beacon Hills’ best fighters, they could do it in one hit right now, just by taking out this New Year’s Eve party.

There’s not a person in this room that hasn’t put their life on the line for the pack, for the town. And Peter knows that every one of them would do it again in a heartbeat, despite the consequences, despite the scars that they all bear.

The Sheriff’s there, and his son, a boy who’s too damned clever for his own good, and too willing to take a risk.

Lydia Martin’s laughing with Stiles. Peter wonders if she realizes how powerful she really is, what a formidable opponent she makes. He’s glad they’re finally on the same side.

The McCalls are there, Melissa having arrived on Noah’s arm.

Scott studiously avoids looking at his mother as she flirts brazenly with her date.

He’s a True Alpha, sure, but Peter can’t help but think that Melissa’s the one in that family who’s actually…..useful. Scott’s brimming with potential, but he doesn’t seem to be able to get out of his own way. If the boy could just put aside his overblown sense of morality, and look at the bigger picture, Peter has the feeling he’d be a hell of a fighter.

Derek’s in the corner, talking with Chris Argent.

Chris has his head thrown back in a throaty laugh, and the sound makes Peter shiver involuntarily.

He makes his way over and lays a hand on the other man’s arm.

“Christopher” he says by way of greeting – don’t ask him why, but he can never bring himself to shorten the man’s name. To do so would be disrespectful, and if there’s one thing the hunter has earned, it’s Peter’s respect.

His respect, and his desire.

“Peter” Chris responds, still smiling, and Peter casts an appreciative eye over the man’s features.

The salt and pepper beard only serves to highlight the startlingly blue eyes, the ones that bore into your very soul. The fine lines around those eyes attest to a life lived hard, the creases clearly visible against tanned skin.

The tan extends down his neck, and hair peeks out at the throat of his shirt. Peter knows there's a muscled chest hiding under there, and some day soon he hopes to get his hands on it.

Chris is taller than Peter, so he always has to tilt his head back slightly to look at him, giving the impression that he’s submitting.

Peter finds that he enjoys the sensation of Chris being in control, and he’s not sure how that makes him feel.

They’ve been playing this game for a while now, dancing around each other, both enjoying themselves immensely.

A touch here, a risqué comment there. 

A meal together, because why both sit alone at a diner when they can share a table?

An intricate dance, one where they’re steadily circling, slowly but surely closing in on each other.

“I was just thinking that strategically, having everyone here’s a terrible idea” Peter says lightly.

Chris casts an eye around the room before saying quietly “I had the same thought, which is why I called everyone earlier and made sure they’re all armed.”

Peter’s quietly pleased, but it would never do to say such a thing. It would give Christopher the advantage.

He folds his arms across his chest, and makes a show of looking offended.

“But you didn’t call me? Why Christopher, I’m hurt. Don’t I get to carry a weapon?” he says with a pout.

Chris moves closer, and rumbles into Peter’s ear, his voice like gravel on velvet.

“You’re dangerous enough all on your own, and you know it.”

And then there’s a broad palm on the small of Peter’s back, the touch sure and warm, and to anyone watching it’s a casual thing between friends, but Peter can smell the arousal coming off Chris, and he smiles to himself.

Chris has been steadily pursuing Peter for months, and Peter’s almost ready to let himself be caught.

Truth be told,  Peter’s normally the one doing the chasing, and he’s finding it quite intoxicating to be the prey instead of the hunter.

“I do have certain features that can be quite intimidating” Peter replies with a smirk.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Chris says with an amused expression on his face. “Lucky I’m an expert in handling…large  weapons.”

He laughs, low and deep in his throat, and the sound of Chris’ voice once again draws a shudder from Peter.

It’s started to feature in his dreams and his fantasies, Chris rasping out “Gonna give it up for me, wolf?” as Peter spreads his legs wide.

Maybe they’ve played long enough.

He’s distracted from his musing by the cries of “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

He braces instinctively, and Chris feels the tension where his hand’s still on Peter’s back.

He quirks a brow in query, and Peter can see that he’s worried. He’s unexpectedly touched by the concern, and mumbles under his breath “Fireworks. Not a favorite.”

He can see the moment understanding dawns across Chris’ features.

For Peter, seeing the sky ablaze with color is just too close to seeing the flames of the fire leaping skyward, consuming his family and his past and his future, and the explosions always leave Peter shaking and wrung out.

If he hadn’t been so taken with Chris, so busy flirting, Peter would have taken more notice of the time, and been holed up in a room alone by now, free to shake and sob without anyone to witness his weakness. But instead, he’s stuck in a room full of people, and all he can do is try and ride it out.

“Five, four, three, two, one…”

As the rest of the room whoops and cheers and shouts “Happy New Year!” and the distant boom of the fireworks start, Peter finds himself reacting instinctively, cringing and whimpering at the flashing lights and loud noises as the picture windows in the living room become awash with color.

He’s finding it hard to breathe, his heart’s racing, and he starts to shake as he once again sees the flames and hears the screams of his family, as fresh in his mind as the day it first happened.

Then the hand on Peter’s back is drawing him in close, and Chris Argent is whispering “Let me help.”

Peter barely has time to register what’s happening before he’s on the receiving end of a rough, desperate kiss.

Chris Argent smells of expensive cologne, with an undercurrent of gun oil and leather.

His beard scratches, and his hands lock together around the back of Peter‘s head, keeping him in place as Chris explores his mouth. Chris’ breath is hot, and he tastes like the scotch he’s been drinking.

He runs his tongue along Peter’s lips, demanding entrance, and Peter’s helpless to resist. He opens his mouth to grant Chris access, and he can feel the corners of the other man’s mouth curl up slightly in triumph as he plunges his tongue into the cavern of Peter’s mouth.

The suddenness and ferocity of the kiss distracts Peter enough that his shaking subsides, and he’s back in the present. 

Chris can feel when Peter relaxes against him, but he doesn't stop kissing him, instead he pulls him closer and presses their bodies close.

Peter's awareness narrows to the feel and taste of Chris Argent as he plunders his mouth, merciless.

He tilts his head to the side to better position their mouths, giving himself over fully to the experience.

It’s everything he thought it would be and more, and he closes his eyes to further savor the moment.

It’s possible they get a little carried away, because the next thing Peter knows the fireworks are over, Chris is pulling away, and everyone in the room’s gone silent.

Peter glances around to see everyone looking at them, openmouthed n shock.

Chris pulls Peter in to his side with an arm around his waist and glares at them, silently daring them all to go ahead and say something.

Noah finally breaks the silence, saying “About damn time, Argent.”

The tension leaves the room, and Chris grins widely then, showing off his perfect teeth and making those attractive lines around his eyes stand out even more.

He says “Sometimes the hunt takes a little longer, when it’s big game.”

And suddenly Scott’s blushing, Stiles is laughing as he shakes his head, and Lydia’s nodding approvingly.

Melissa’s smile turns hungry as she leans in to drag Noah down to claim a kiss of her own from the Sheriff, saying “If a werewolf and a hunter can get it together, Noah…”

While everyone’s attention is on Noah and Melissa, Peter slips his hand into Christopher’s and leans into his touch, as he whispers “Thank you.”

Chris squeezes his hand back, and nods towards the door.

Peter nods in return, then tilts his head back slightly in submission.


End file.
